


or else his title is in vain

by starlightwalking



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Political Alliances, Tolkien Crack Week 2020, it came to me in a dream, political sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Maitimo seeks aid from the Þindar. He's surprised by what Þingollo is willing to give.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë/Lúthien Tinúviel, Elu Thingol | Elwë Singollo/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34
Collections: Tolkien Crack Week 2020





	or else his title is in vain

**Author's Note:**

> The concept of Maedhros/Thingol [came to me in a dream](https://arofili.tumblr.com/post/620333076049952768/had-a-dream-maedhros-went-to-doriath-before) awhile back, and the more I thought about it the more I felt like I wanted to write it...but I have a million other projects so I didn't, until Crack Week rolled around and I was like "well, this is certainly a crack ship!"
> 
> Obviously not canon compliant; this is a "what if" scenario where Maedhros tries to ally with the Sindar before going to treat with Morgoth. Also ft. Celegorm/Lúthien from way before that actually is a thing; I chose Celegorm to accompany Maedhros because he came to the aid of the Falas in the Dagorn-nuin-Giliath so at this point the Sindar are probably pretty fond of him. Ironic considering what is to come...
> 
> Also, Morgoth's messenger arrived "even in the hour of the death of Fëanor" offering the treaty, but even in canon I highly doubt Maedhros went to his doom _immediately_. That kind of offer needs to be thought over, and he had to persuade his brothers, and it hurts my heart to think that they lost Fëanor and Maedhros within hours of each other. Plus I want Maitimo to have actually had time to be king for a bit. So, I think that while the message came right away, the battle happened at some later point.
> 
> The title is, of course, from Maedhros' famous diss of Thingol during the Noldorin council after his rescue: "A king is he who can hold his own, or else his title is in vain."

"This is a bad idea," Makalaurë had warned him, and Maitimo knew he was right, but what other choice did he have?

"The Oath doesn't say we have to walk right into a _trap_ ," Carnistir had added, and Maitimo conceded the point, but if he did _nothing_ when Moringotto dangled a Silmaril in front of them he didn't think he could excuse it.

"This is the same mistake Atar made," Ambarussa had said quietly, his eyes empty without his twin, and it was this that made Maitimo hesitate—but Tyelkormo and Curufinwë were angry, and they were all grieving, and Maitimo saw a way to end this _now_ before it dragged on too long, and he had to _try_.

"I will not go alone," he had promised, and at this even Curufinwë scoffed.

"All our forces together are not enough to slay those... _things_ ," he had rasped. "They took down all of Atar's guard, and him also—"

"Then I will ask for aid," Maitimo had cut across, and at this Tyelkormo perked up.

"From the Þindar?" he had inquired, and Maitimo nodded.

Tyelkormo's grin was wolfish. "Excellent," he'd said. "The Falathrim owe me a favor, after I helped them in the last battle."

...And that was how Maitimo and Tyelkormo made their way into Doriath, alone among their brothers, with only two guards each and a translator from the Falath who had befriended Tyelkormo. It was thanks only to her, and Tyelkormo's valiance in the battle, that they were permitted beyond the Girdle, and Maitimo thought it unlikely that the King of the Þindar would have allowed any other than the savior of the Falath and the King of the Noldor into his realm. Elwë Þingollo had once been the friend of their grandfather, but he had grown strange and twisted in this dark land, a Maia wife whispering in his ears, and he was untrusting of outsiders.

Yet when he beheld Maitimo and Tyelkormo for the first time, Þingollo smiled, and his gaze lingered on Maitimo in a way that sent a shiver down his spine, eyes bright with the Light of Aman and...something else that Maitimo was afraid to name.

Þingollo was warm and courteous as he welcomed them into his halls. Maitimo had been prepared to show the polite amount of admiration for the Þindar king's domain, but Menegroth had him gasping with genuine awe: the caves were gorgeous, wrought like trees made of stone, and glimmering with lights not unlike the night sky. In this land far from the Two Trees the darkness felt natural, almost comforting. For some reason, Maitimo felt more at ease in Menegroth than he had since the Darkening.

Tyelkormo was sufficiently impressed, but his eyes were drawn more to Menegroth's princess than to the caves themselves. Lúthien she was named, the child of an Elda and a Maia, and Maitimo supposed she was breathtakingly beautiful, though in his opinion her father was more attractive. Of course, Maitimo's gaze had always been drawn more to néri than níssi, so perhaps he was biased.

But Þingollo _was_ stunning: a beacon of light (of familiarity, almost) in these dark lands. His smile, though unexpected, was comforting, and he clearly esteemed Maitimo as an equal—which was somewhat of a surprise, even to their Falathrim translator Hithaer, whose eyes widened with every translated comment. But in time Maitimo dismissed Hithaer, for Þingollo remembered enough of the ancient tongue and he knew enough of the Þindar language that they could communicate in a mix of Quenya and Þindarin that Fëanáro would have been excited to study.

Þingollo's Maia queen was cool and distant, and left her husband to his own devices as talks of allyship and aid continued late into what passed for "night," in the absence of the Trees. Tyelkormo slipped away with Lúthien after long, enchanted by her promise to take him dancing with her kin; Maitimo was not at all surprised at this, had expected it. He had brought Tyelkormo for his ease with others, and he was sure to impress the Sindar in his own particular way: he was ever the life of the party.

At length Þingollo invited Maitimo to his private chambers, that they might discuss troops and treaties in a more comfortable setting. Maitimo was relaxed, perhaps more comfortable than he ought to be in the presence of a king so much older and wiser than he; but Þingollo was quick-witted and kind, despite his pride, and he found himself more enamoured of the Sinda King than he truly wished to be.

"Enough of this talk," Þingollo said abruptly as the candles in his bedchamber grew dim. He had shed most of his outer layers, and now dressed only a thin robe; Maitimo, likewise, was cloakless and bootless, and loose-limbed with wine. "Yes, you shall have my aid in this, though it be foolish to treat with the Enemy. And yet together we shall outwit him, and win back your jewels!"

Maitimo laughed, and rose to shake his hand, but to his astonishment Þingollo pulled him into an embrace. Maitimo let him, his heartbeat speeding as he realized that Þingollo was somewhat taller even than him—and what a feeling it was when Þingollo leaned _down_ and he _up_ as their lips met in a shocking kiss!

Guilt flooded through him immediately, for this was not proper of two kings, and Þingollo was wed (and Maitimo's own heart taken, though he had left Findekáno on the other side of the sea and would not see him again). But as he drew back in shock Þingollo only laughed, saying, "Melian the Queen is not jealous of my bedmates; Lúthien we made with magics I barely understand, and she has no needs of the flesh as we Eldar do. She does not begrudge me my...conquests."

"Conquest!" Maitimo snorted. "I am a King and your equal, Þingollo!"

Þingollo leaned down once more to give him another biting kiss, and Maitimo swooned into his arms: well, perhaps he would like to be conquered. It was a change from lifting small Findekáno into his embrace, and not an unwelcome one.

"Come to bed with me," Þingollo whispered into his ear, and despite himself Maitimo found he could not resist.

Their coupling was not that of lovers, the pattern of give-and-take like Maitimo was used to with Findekáno, but fierce and impatient. Þingollo conquered him, as he had promised to do, and Maitimo let him, unashamed. When it was over and the Þinda King lay panting atop him, Maitimo reached up to kiss him, then flipped him over in one swift movement, pinning him to his bed.

"What—" Þingollo growled, but Maitimo made his intentions clear soon enough. It was a struggle to convince him to yield, but yield he did, as Maitimo growled out things he had heard in his grandfather's court about kingship and the duties of a ruler, of holding one's own and serving one's people. It was a delight to take him apart like this, and Maitimo enjoyed every second of it.

(He wondered if his brother was doing much the same with Þingollo's daughter at that moment.)

In the morning Maitimo slipped from Þingollo's chambers to the guest rooms he had been provided, pleasantly aching and more satisfied than he had been since arriving on these shores. Death and darkness had assailed them, but he had made alliance (and made much more) with the King of the Þindar, and soon Moringotto would be defeated!

They met again that evening, this time with Tyelkormo and Þingollo's captains present. They discussed logistics, warriors, weapons; Maitimo told what they knew of Moringotto's schemes in Valinórë, and Þingollo of his menace in Endórë. Maitimo and Tyelkormo were careful not to let slip news of the Kinslaying or the ship-burning; it was Þingollo's brother's people they had wronged, and they would not bring such pain upon the Þindar if they could help it. None of them were proud of Alqualondë; even Fëanáro had been grieved that such lengths had been necessary.

Maitimo was not certain what to expect when the negotiations concluded for the evening, but when Þingollo once again invited him to his chambers, he acquiesced. This time there was a glint in Þingollo's eye, and Maitimo only laughed when he saw the silk ropes that awaited him.

"If you think this is the first time I have endured such, you are mistaken," he chided his fellow king.

Þingollo smiled wickedly. "Good. Then you know what to expect."

Indeed he did, but Þingollo had a few other tricks in his quiver, enough to leave Maitimo shaking and begging by the end of the night. The worst was when Þingollo left him there, yet naked and bound, as it came time for the morning meal, promising to return when it became time to resume negotiations. When at last he set Maitimo free and they strode to the conference chamber, Maitimo was sore and scheming—planning a way to get back at him.

But the chance never came, for they arrived early to the meeting only to find Tyelkormo and Lúthien engaged in much the same kind of fornication Maitimo and Þingollo had been earlier.

Þingollo turned purple with rage as he watched Tyelkormo find his completion within Lúthien, who cried out in what Maitimo recognized as ecstasy but her father no doubt interpreted as pain. Before Maitimo could stop him, Þingollo had seized Tyelkormo and begun to beat him—and Tyelko was not one to take such treatment lightly. Lúthien tugged at her bonds, shouting as her father assaulted her lover, and Maitimo rushed to free her. It took both of them combined to tear Þingollo and Tyelkormo off one another, and Maitimo shivered as he saw the aftershocks of Þingollo's _conquest_ in the violence enacted against his brother.

"Leave this place," Þingollo hissed, his eyes wild, "both of you, Noldorin whores! I forsake any allyship we might have had, and curse you as unworthy to dwell in these lands—"

"You cannot oust us," Tyelkormo sneered. "And are you so much better, King Slut, taking my brother to bed as I fucked your daughter? At least this is a less lethal conquest than what we did to your _brother_ and his kin—"

Maitimo slapped Tyelkormo. "Fool!" he growled. "Do not ruin any chance of future allyship we may have had in a few centuries after _your_ antics have blown over!"

" _What_ do you mean," Þingollo demanded, and even Lúthien's eyes grew hard.

Maitimo spat at Þingollo's feet, though in truth his anger was with Tyelkormo for costing them such a powerful ally. "Only that your brother would not aid us in our pursuit of the Enemy, and so we took his ships by force," he said flatly. He would not speak of the slaughter itself, and he would throttle Tyelkormo before he would let _him_ utter another word, but that was enough for Þingollo, who drew his own sword.

"We take our leave, O mighty King," Maitimo cried, and soon a crowd began to gather at the commotion. "Do not halt us in our retreat; we will remember your hindrance once we have returned victorious from Angamando with Moringotto's head on a pike!"

They made their escape, their few retainers at their backs as they rode out of Menegroth and into the depths of the forest. Their translator, Hithaer, remained, wanting naught to do with them.

Fury boiled in Maitimo's belly, and his resolve to defeat the Enemy strengthened even more. Perhaps they would not have the might of the Þindar behind them when they feigned treaty with Moringotto's forces, but they _would_ win, and Maitimo would return victorious to Doriath as he promised and force Þingollo to kneel to him.

That was what kept him going as he marched, doomed, to battle and the torment beyond: though he lose his kingship and dignity both, he would not let Þingollo forget the strength of the Noldo King.

**Author's Note:**

> You heard it here folks: it's all Thingol's fault!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


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